


love in thought, love in the words

by miniconsuffrage



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M, it's sad I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 06:17:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15600144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miniconsuffrage/pseuds/miniconsuffrage
Summary: Death is an ever-present possibility, in war. The Maximals aren't coping well with losing one of their own.Optimus and Cheetor talk it out.





	love in thought, love in the words

**Author's Note:**

> if you think about this fic taking place before [this one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14387700), it isn't as sad
> 
> anyway! +20% doop!

Nobody was doing well in the wake of Dinobot’s death.

It wasn’t their first loss. Tigatron and Airazor were already gone, and that had been hard as well. But they had always been in their own world, wrapped up in each other, and there was comfort in knowing they were together.

Dinobot was a different story.

He hadn’t deserved what happened to him. He shouldn’t have had to make that sacrifice, but he had done so unflinchingly, and saved all of them in the process. Yes, casualties were a byproduct of war, and Dinobot had known that from the beginning. But the rest of them hadn’t embarked on this mission prepared to fight. They hadn’t been prepared to make dear friends and then lose them.

Rhinox was quieter than usual, and threw himself into the little projects that kept their busted ship from falling apart with renewed determination. Rattrap refused to talk about Dinobot, but spent more time alone in his room. Silverbolt hadn’t known Dinobot for very long, but he offered his teammates someone to talk to if they needed it, and was nearly always turned down. Cheetor was clearly still upset, and volunteered to go on more scouting missions.

Optimus probably shouldn’t have let him, but… He was having a hard time himself.

He had watched Dinobot’s spark fade to nothingness, and it still didn’t feel real. It still felt like a trick, something Megatron had devised to hurt them, something reversible. Well. He had certainly succeeded in hurting them. Perhaps more than he realized.

There wasn’t anywhere Optimus could go, was the problem. Dinobot had fought battles at his side all around the Axalon. The bridge just brought up memories of mission briefings, monitor duties, quiet conversations in the darkness of nighttime. And in Optimus’s room, there was still the flower—the gift Dinobot had given him that was now painful to look at and impossible to throw away.

There was so much Optimus should have said and hadn’t yet gotten around to. There hadn’t even been a reason, he just… had assumed he would have more time, he supposed. That was foolish of him. Optimus knew full well the risks of their circumstances. He should have said something when he had the chance.

Then again, what would it have changed? Dinobot would still have died. Nothing would have been different. Optimus wasn’t even sure he would feel better if he had said something. It was pointless to think about. And yet, it felt like he could do nothing else.

Apparently he wasn’t being as subtle as he had hoped. Rhinox stopped him in the bridge, trying to lose himself in data interpretations. “I’m fairly certain you’re not supposed to be on duty right now,” Rhinox said, putting a hand on Optimus’s shoulder.

“We’re at war. There are more important things to do,” Optimus said distractedly.

“There are,” Rhinox nodded. “But this isn’t one of them. Why don’t you go outside and go for a walk?”

“A walk?” Optimus repeated. That didn’t sound like something he wanted to do right then, but then again, there wasn’t really anything else he wanted to do, either.

“Yes, a walk. Might help clear your processor,” Rhinox said. “This data isn’t going anywhere.”

Rhinox wasn’t going to allow arguing, so Optimus quietly did as he was told. But Rhinox hadn’t told him where to go. He found himself flying aimlessly, barely paying enough attention to his surroundings or his scanners to avoid getting jumped on by Predacons.

They hadn’t stopped, was the thing. Hadn’t even given the Maximals time to breathe, to mourn. They were starting skirmishes the very next day. So no matter how Optimus felt, he had to put that behind him and be the leader everyone needed him to be.

It looked like his subconscious mind was against him today, because, without really knowing how he’d gotten there, Optimus found himself at the valley. Here was the source of so much, good and bad, and it was the last place Optimus wanted to be.

There was where Dinobot’s final confrontation took place. Optimus was about to change course, to go in literally any direction but there, when he noticed a familiar figure at the valley’s edge. 

Optimus landed close by, but Cheetor didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look up from where he was sitting, legs crossed and hunched over on himself, at a ledge. After a moment’s hesitation, Optimus took a seat next to him.

Cheetor had told them all he was going on another scouting mission. Clearly, that hadn’t been the case.“Hi,” Optimus said.

“Hey.”

“Do you come out here often?” Optimus asked quietly.

“Not really,” Cheetor sighed, and curled tighter in on himself. “It’s kinda depressing.”

“Kinda,” Optimus agreed. And yet, here they both were. They could _see_ the exact spot they’d lost him—where they had at least gotten to see him again, and hopefully had smoothed his way to the Well. “Sometimes, with things like this, that’s just how it goes. You have to let yourself be sad until you’re ready to not be anymore.”

“That’s not what Rattrap says,” Cheetor muttered.

Rattrap had been sharper than usual. And Optimus hadn’t had the energy to rebuke him. “Rattrap is dealing with it in a different way,” he said.

Cheetor snorted humorlessly. “Yeah, that’s great for him. His way of dealing with it is making everyone else miserable,” he said.

“I’ll talk to him,” Optimus said. Or… he would get Rhinox to do it, maybe. The thought of having that conversation with Rattrap right now was a little bit much. 

Cheetor sighed. “You don’t have to. It’s not that bad,” he said. “I mean… what do I even have to complain about? It’s not like we were best friends or anything.”

“It’s still painful to lose a friend,” Optimus said. He wasn’t good at this. 

Cheetor hummed. “You two were close, right?”

Were they? Optimus nodded, numbly. “I guess we were,” he said.

Maybe Cheetor noticed something. He looked at Optimus, and just waited, his head tilted. And Optimus should have kept his mouth shut, because Cheetor didn’t need to have personal problems dumped on him by his commander. And yet, he was there, listening, and Dinobot felt so close and so far away, and Optimus was burning from it.

“I loved him,” he said quietly.

Cheetor’s eyes went wide. “Oh,” he said simply, and let it hang there for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

Optimus gave half a shrug. “Not your fault,” he said. He didn’t know what to say. 

“Did he… know?” Cheetor asked, hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea.

“No. I didn’t tell him, at least,” Optimus said. What would it have changed? Nothing. Optimus would have missed him either way.

Cheetor was silent for a long time, just staring out at the surrounding landscape, deep in thought. Occasionally the tip of his tail would twitch.

“He did like you, though.”

“What?” Optimus asked. He had lost track of the conversation.

“Dinobot. I don’t know exactly how he felt, but obviously he liked you a lot,” Cheetor said. Optimus had come down here to try to comfort Cheetor, and now everything had been flipped around. “You got along really well. And if it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t have been a Maximal in the first place. So… I know he was glad he met you.”

Maybe he would have been better off if he hadn’t been a Maximal, Optimus didn’t say. 

That wasn’t fair to Dinobot. He had made his decisions, and had given his life for something important. “Maybe you’re right,” Optimus allowed. 

They fell back into silence.

The sun had started to set, which cast vibrant colors into the sky. It was beautiful in a way unlike anything on Cybertron. Cybertron had its own beauties, its own sights and sounds and smells that were unique and astounding, but Earth was wholly different. Optimus never would have guessed he would see anything like this before they crashed here.

He wouldn’t have guessed a lot of things before their arrival on Earth. He had a whole mental list. He didn’t like to think about it anymore.

Suddenly he wished he were back on the ship interpreting data points. Maybe Rhinox was right to send him out here, but it was so much easier to keep his mind occupied with other things. He’d just tried to encourage Cheetor to allow himself to grieve, and wasn’t following his own advice. 

Cheetor seemed to be somewhere along the same line of thought. “How long do you have to be sad for, d’you think?” he asked.

“I wish I knew,” Optimus admitted. “But it won’t last forever. I know that.”

Cheetor grunted like he didn’t believe him. That was fair. He’d been through a lot more than he could have prepared for when they set off on this trip. 

“Why don’t you go back to the ship? You’ve been out here a long time. I’m sure you could use some recharge,” Optimus said.

“What about you?”

“I’ll catch up in a little bit. I’ve spent enough time inside lately,” Optimus said.

Cheetor hesitated, like he wasn’t sure he should leave Optimus alone, but he did eventually follow directions and sped off into the sky in the direction of the Axalon.

In the last light of the evening, Optimus made his way down into the valley. He plucked every flower he saw on the way to the grave they’d set up. By the time he was there, he had collected a nicely sized bouquet. 

Optimus hadn’t been back here since that first time.

“Well… things haven’t been the same without you, Dinobot,” he said. It was silly to talk to a grave. Dinobot wasn’t here. “If the stories are true, you’re in a better place now. It must be nice to finally be able to relax.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Optimus took a seat. The grave wasn’t what Dinobot deserved, wasn’t anywhere close to what they would have done on Cybertron, but they had limited materials out here. Optimus hoped he would have understood.

_I love you_ , he almost said out loud. It wouldn’t have mattered. Dinobot wouldn’t have heard him. But…

But if he could… Well. Optimus wouldn’t want to have burdened him with that. Not now.

“We miss you,” Optimus said instead. “I miss you. I couldn’t have asked for a better soldier or friend.”

Gingerly, he set the flowers down in front of Dinobot’s grave marker. “Til all are one,” he recited quietly, then stood and headed back to the ship.

It wasn’t forever. Someday, they would meet in the Well. 

Maybe they would talk about it then.


End file.
